


As I Love and Breathe

by MaxWrite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breathplay, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-01
Updated: 2009-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville has never had a lover he was more comfortable with than Luna, Wrackspurts be damned!</p>
            </blockquote>





	As I Love and Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Daily Deviant](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/daily_deviant/).

"Is it going to hurt?" asked Luna.

"What?" Neville looked around at her and frowned as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Er, it might be uncomfortable for me, but you knew that, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, of course I know that, but that's not what I meant."

"Well... what'd you mean, then?"

Luna looked thoughtful as she pulled off her socks and then stood there in nothing but her cotton bra and panties. She put her hands on her hips and regarded Neville with a slightly far-off look, her eyes shifting just to the right of his face. Neville was familiar with this, of course, but he was almost afraid to ask what she was looking at, knowing it would throw the conversation way off topic.

"I meant me," she finally explained, her eyes darting back to Neville's face.

"What about you? I thought you were okay with it."

"I am." She stepped closer to him and began unfastening his jeans in a casual sort of way, as though performing some normal, daily task. "But the Shaudenfrisk, you see. That's what's making me nervous."

The _what?_ Neville frowned, which Luna missed while she was busy with his jeans. "I guess I should ask," he said.

She looked up and smiled serenely. "You don't have to."

"Well, I know, but -"

"Neville," she interrupted him as she helped him out of his jeans. "I'm no stranger to this sort of thing." His jeans were tossed onto the chair in the corner with his shirt and Neville stood there in nothing but his boxers. "That's why I asked if it's going to hurt."

"Be...cause of the Shaud...en...whuh?"

"Shaudenfrisk."

"Right. And that is...?"

"Little sprites that we all have. They follow us wherever we go and they're not very nice at all."

"Okay." Neville scratched his head and decided he might as well follow this conversation through to its natural conclusion. "Why aren't they nice?"

"They make you feel really good when you cause someone else pain."

"Oh. Well... why, though?"

"Because they feed on the misery of others, so they reward us for being unkind."

"Okay, but this doesn't count, does it?"

"This is why I asked, Neville. Because I've been involved in this kind of thing before and it felt extremely good, you see."

There was much about Luna's sexual history that Neville wasn't clear on. He knew she was more experienced than he was, but exactly _how_ experienced was still a mystery. He learned something new everyday. "Were you giving or receiving?" he asked.

"Giving," she replied with a little sigh, glancing off to the side. "And I really, really enjoyed it, which is why I'm so concerned."

Neville frowned again. "I'm probably going out on a limb here, but... I'm not sure the, er... Shaudenfer..."

"Shaudenfrisk."

"Right. I don't think that applies here because you won't be hurting me against my will. It has to be something the victim doesn't want to happen, doesn't it?"

Luna cocked her head and frowned slightly. Neville supposed that meant she was listening, so he continued.

"So, you probably enjoyed it before because it was fun, yeah?"

She met his eyes again, looking almost as though she'd just remembered he was standing there, and smiled. "I think you have a point."

He smiled too, relieved. "Good. Um... did you want to...?" He gestured uncertainly at the bed.

Luna nodded. "Yes," she replied, but before letting him go, she stepped closer, her smile softening as she gazed up into his eyes. She wrapped an arm around his waist and slipped her free hand down into his boxers. Neville shuddered and circled her tiny waist with one arm. He watched her lids slowly descend as she turned her face up, offering her petal-pink lips to him. He lowered his mouth to hers as her hand slowly and expertly worked his length.

He was still a bit unnerved by how easy sex with her always was. They'd met up again a few month ago, five years after the final battle, and a quick catch-up chat over tea had led to a four-hour conversation, which had led to their first kiss, which had led to them ending up back at her strange, kitschy little flat. Her casualness and comfort level with what they were obviously there to do had both shocked him and put him at ease. Sex without the awkwardness was wonderfully bizarre and still, even after all these months, quite novel.

She guided him to the bed, humming a little tune he was sure she wasn't aware she'd made up herself, and he lay down on his back and watched her. She grabbed his wand from the side table and flicked it at the curtains, only just now remembering to shut them, and the gauzy layers of purple and blue chiffon flew shut. She then lit a number of candles sitting around the room on various surfaces and then put his wand down.

"I like it when you use my wand," he whispered, already feeling short of breath.

"I know," she said with a little smile. She then climbed on top of him, straddled him and nudged her crotch again his, gently riding the hard ridge inside his underwear. "Touch me," she instructed, reaching for one of his hands with both of hers. "Come on, don't be shy."

He wasn't shy, exactly. He just really liked it when she took the lead, which she seemed to enjoy as well. He let her guide his hand to her waist, let her slowly rub it up and down against the smooth, porcelain-pale skin, over the little ridges of her ribs and up over the thin, cotton, material of her coral-coloured bra. Her nipples stood out against the fabric and he heard her suck in a little breath as she moved his fingers over the sensitive little nub.

Neville gulped. "Can you... take off your bra first?"

She smiled lovingly at him. "Of course." She slid his hand down out of the way, bent her arms back and unfastened her bra. When it came off, he gingerly moved his hand up to cup one of her small breasts. He rubbed his thumb over the rigid, wrinkly little nipple and felt little shocks of arousal shoot right through him as she responded, as she arched into his touch, shut her eyes and let out a soft moan. She reached up to tweak the other one as she rolled her hips in a slow, circular motion, rubbing her crotch against his.

When she finally looked down at him again, her pale eyes were dark with heat. "I'm ready now," she whispered as she moved her hands down to his belly, slid them up past his chest to his neck and gently wrapped her hands around it. His cock twitched up against her as he felt her slender fingers circle his throat. His heart sped up, as did his breathing. He moved his free hand to her other breast, giving both nipples a good, hard pinch simultaneously, and making her gasp and arch and grind against him.

"I'm ready too," he said, surprising even himself with the low growl his voice had become.

She began to slowly tighten her grip on his throat. He was still able to breathe, but the act was already turning him on like nothing else. He gripped her waist and pushed up against her, his eyelids fluttering. He clenched his teeth as her grip tightened and she began to ride him faster, harder, hips thrusting back and forth, muscles tensing beneath the creamy skin of her thighs.

As his air was cut off more and more, his head began to swim, meanwhile his cock was throbbing, the pleasure there intensifying with each passing second. She leaned forward a bit more, putting more pressure on his throat, wispy tendrils of her hair falling down around her face and her breasts jiggling, as she rode him. She was growing a bit red in the face from her effort. Neville could only imagine how red he was at the moment. Probably not terribly attractive, but he felt too good to care.

"You're going to come, aren't you?" she said, her voice strained, her breaths quick and urgent. Neville couldn't speak now of course, but he answered her as best he could with his writhing body. He showed her without words how much he loved it. He shut his eyes and gently gripped her arms, caressing her skin, encouraging her.

"You're going to come so hard for me, Neville," she said. "Yes, you will. Or you'll have to be punished, won't you?"

Neville made no sound other than a soft wheeze. He could feel the end drawing near, pleasure flooding throughout his body, pushing him to the edge of his self-control. He could let go completely with her and it was okay. He'd never felt safe letting go with anyone else before, never felt comfortable enough to even mention that something like this might turn him on. It was so liberating and he didn't think he'd ever get over the novelty of it or how much it made him love her. He wished he could tell her right now how he was feeling, but he was sure she knew. She always knew.

He gently laid a hand over her hands, his soft touch a complete contrast to her hard, violent pressure. He opened his eyes and they locked with hers as he caressed her fingers. She gave him a single nod, and he knew what it meant. It was a question, asking if it was time, if he was going to come, if he was ready. For several seconds he didn't respond, instead concentrating on the myriad of sensations bombarding him, the light-headedness, the pressure on his neck, the pulsing in his dick, the tightening of his balls, feeling it all intensify, propelling him faster toward the brink.

And then he finally replied, giving her a single nod, the go-ahead, as the pleasure pulsing through him bloomed out in waves and took over all his senses.

She tightened her grip to the point where not even a wheeze could escape him. He rutted up against her, writhed helplessly, gripped her thighs and held on, desperate to feel her, to touch any part of her while he went through this, almost as though he was afraid of losing himself in this and needing her there to keep him grounded.

She was coming too. He could hear it in her voice, in the way her breath shuddered out of her in a quick, desperate rhythm, like the heart beat of a frightened rabbit, and her grip on his neck faltered a little, telling him that she was losing control too. Suddenly he was too far away from her. Having her simply perched atop him wasn't enough. He smacked his open palm against the bed sheets three distinct times, and she immediately released his neck. He desperately gulped air into his lungs and reeled as his head spun with dizziness, but his most urgent need at the moment was her. He reached out for her and she fell into his arms, pressing her mouth to his cheek as they rode out the remainder of their climaxes.

He came crashing back down, hard and fast, while she continued to tense and jerk against him for several more seconds.

"Love how hard you come," he whispered encouragingly, stroking her slightly moist back. Her only response was a series of hard groans right in his ear. They tapered off, becoming softer and softer, and then she went quiet.

"Are you all right?" was the first coherent thing she said.

"Yes. Brilliant."

She pushed up and looked down at him, smiling lazily at him. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm okay."

"Because it's very dangerous, what we just did, you know."

"I know." He was very aware of that. If something happened to him and she was forced to live with that guilt, he'd never forgive himself. He pulled her down against himself again and hugged her tight. "I know," he repeated. "Luna... thank you. You didn't have to do that for me."

"I wanted to," she replied cheerily, cuddling him.

"I'm really lucky."

She pulled back again to look at him in slight alarm. "Why? Did you avoid a Wrackspurt just now? They tend to strike most often just after climax, and men are the most susceptible."

"Er... no. I meant you. I'm lucky to have you."

"Oh." She relaxed and stroked his chest. "I'm lucky too, then."

He smiled gratefully up at her. She hadn't needed to say that. "So, how do you feel? I mean, what about the, er... Shauden... things?"

"Oh, I think you were probably right. I don't think they can feed off of pain or discomfort that the victim derives pleasure from."

"Good." Neville actually found himself feeling a bit relieved, but he dismissed it, deciding to worry about his sanity when he'd got his clothes back on. "How do you know, though?" he asked. "I mean, they're invisible, so..."

She cocked her head at him and laughed. "Invisible? No, they're not." At that, she kissed his cheek and then got up and wandered away, mumbling vaguely about being right back and having left a riding crop somewhere in the kitchen. Neville lay there, eyes darting around the area where she'd just been perched, hoping her little sprites had gone with her.

Then he wondered about his own little sprites. But they didn't exist, surely, so...

His wand rolled off the bedside table and clattered to the floor, making him jump. He quickly sat up, too unnerved to be bothered by the mess in his boxers, and hurried after her.

END


End file.
